Monday 27 February 2023

Guess that like Punxsutawney Phil, I saw my own shadow and returned to my hole - and reports that I'd emerged from hibernation were premature. I was so cross with myself on Friday evening for letting the day slip away that at 7pm I grabbed my coat and set out for the V&A and Donatello ... what an inspired idea and why don't I do this more often! There was hardly a soul there and I communed in peace with perky spiritelli and Madonnas holding properly wriggly babies.
Nearly 600 years old ... but so alive you could imagine him in Florence today, standing at the bar with his espresso or a glass of Chianti. After 40-odd years of living in London, I still sometimes feel awestruck at what I can access with my old-lady travel-pass within 30 mins of home.

Wednesday 8 February 2023

I think I might be emerging from hibernation! It's amazing how a flicker of sunshine makes you feel livelier, not to mention daylight lasting until 5.30-ish ... well, I'm not a morning person and I hate that feeling of it not being worth setting out when it's only 2pm. Anyway, today I headed for a bit of colour and the Orchid Festival at Kew which, though you wouldn't think it from this image, is rather more restrained than in recent years ... a good thing, I think, because it can be a bit brash and (whisper it) vulgar. I'd far rather see orchids in their natural habitat than the splashy displays contrived from supermarket varieties from Holland. (Still plenty of these as apparently the public expects them.) But this year, taking inspiration from Cameroon, it looks a bit more natural - and the animal sculptures are still good fun. I loved the leopard and the crocodile. Last year I see that I combined my visit with the first chilly bench picnic of the year ... not today, thanks! far too much of a shock to the system stepping out from the Palm House. I nipped on the bus to Richmond for hot chocolate from here - and yes, I do find that menu deeply confusing but then I remember when coffee came in black and white.